Always Forgotten
by mochi1239
Summary: He was always there but never seen, always kind but never remembered. He was always quiet,always invisible,and always forgotten. The story of Canada not being able to handle being alone anymore: Rated T for launguage, and character death
1. Chapter 1

Hello! Funny thing about this story is I came up with it on Valentines Day! So yes I'm a very disturbed person. This is what would happen WHEN (he is going to snap someday) Canada finally snaps so enjoy!  
Pairings: Small amounts of USxUK and a little Spamano  
WARNING: Possible character death, language, and kinda gore.

_Canada's P.O.V_

Have you ever stood RIGHT NEXT TO SOMEONE and they didn't even realize you were there? Have you ever had THE PERSON YOU LIVE WITH never be able to remember your name? Has your OWN BROTHER ever forgotten you exist? Well I have EVERY SINGLE DAY OF MY FREAKING LIFE! I-I'm sorry I got a bit angry there… If those things happen to you ALL THE TIME then you know how I feel. If you haven't already guessed who I am, you wouldn't be the first. I am Canada and NO ONE is ever going to forget who I am ever again…

It all started last week, Tuesday, I think… Smiling, I timidly stepped into my home. I don't know why I was smiling. I should have looked like I was about to rip somebody's head off. Every nation at the World Summit meeting had forgotten my name. EVERY FUCKING ONE! That's the day I took one of Switzerland's guns. It was a small handgun so he wouldn't notice if it was gone.

So I headed into the kitchen where kimuhuku just looked at me and said "Food."

I opened a can of salmon for him. After he finished eating, he just asked in a childish voice "Who are you?" Well that's when I couldn't take it anymore. I was sick of being forgotten and sick of being taken advantage of. I turned around to face the little bear holding the handgun.

"I AM CANADA!" I screamed at him and pulled the trigger…

For a few moments, there was silence before the little bears body slumped down and fell to the floor. "What's wrong?" I asked pretending to be worried. "Aren't you going to ask who I am again?"

I started laughing as I kicked the limp body over and over; this felt _amazing._ The cold metal of the gun in my palm, watching the light die from his eyes, and seeing the blood pool down around my shoes. Every second was a _thrill_. I started using Kumakara for target practice each day and was getting a little better with my aim. Soon though, I noticed that I didn't get anything from shooting the now bloody pile of fur and bones. I was still invisible, still forgotten.

"Not for long," I told myself.

I loaded my gun, and started walking towards the home of what you could call my first victim.

Hiding the weapon in my coat, I knocked on the door and waited. A few moments later, the door slammed open and there stood my ever energetic brother.

"Hello?" he asked looking through me for a few minutes before he noticed me. "Oh, hey Canada, I didn't see you there. Come on in!" he exclaimed and stepped to the side to let me in. I walked inside and America slammed the door shut.

"Hey where's your little polar bear?" he asked noticing that kumahata wasn't with me.

"He's not here anymore, America." I told him before pulling the gun from my jacket. "And you won't be here much longer either," I said to him as I pointed the gun at his head.

"Whoa! Easy bro, someone's gonna get hurt with that thing!" He told me stupidly while pointing at the weapon in my hand.

"Silly America, the only one who is going to get hurt… IS YOU!" I yelled and pulled the trigger, shooting him in the side.

The stupid look on his face was immediately replaced with one of fear and pain. He took off running through the house trying desperately to get away.

"YOU BROUGHT THIS UPON YOURSELF AMERICA!" I yelled shooting him again and this time managing to hit his leg.

America fell to the ground screaming in pain and before he could stand, I was right next to him pointing the gun at his chest.

"W-why Canada?" He asked looking up at me with pleading eyes.

I laughed a little and smiled. "I was invisible to you America. I was invisible to everyone, and I am going to change that. Because you're my brother I'll let you decide which one person should I _not_ kill?" I said, playing with him.

"Leave England alone," he told me. "If you're gonna kill me then leave him alone."

I smiled a little more. "Thank you America. Now I know who to get rid of next," I told him while pointing the gun at his chest. "Goodbye brother," I muttered coldly and pulled the trigger. _You're next England_.

_England_

England arrived a little after four to America's house. He said he had a 'totally awesome' surprise for him.

"_Knowing_ _the git it will be a hamburger,"_ the nation thought as he knocked on the door and waited…and waited some more. Finally, the Englishman became impatient and tried to open the door. It wasn't locked.

"Where are you bloody gi-," he froze mid-complaint.

There was a small pool of blood in the middle of America's front hallway. England started running and looking frantically for America. Something in his gut was saying something bad has happened. Passing the kitchen, he noticed more splotches of crimson and bloody handprints like someone was running, but from what?

While passing another hallway, England stopped dead. America's limp body was slumped against the wall covered in his own blood. The older nation leaned down and felt for a pulse. A tiny beat flittered against his fingers. America was alive but he wouldn't be for long.

England turned around to face Canada. He was coated in almost as much blood as his brother.

"Thank god you're here Canada." He smiled at his other ex-colony. "We need to get America to the hospital as soon as possible."

Canada made no move to help. He just stared at England for a few moments before saying in a fake sweet tone. "Still picking favorites, England?" The smile was quickly replaced with a dark scowl. "Even when we were kids, all you ever did was pick America over me."

England stepped back. Something was off about Canada.

"ALL YOU EVER DID WAS PICK HIM OVER ME!" Canada screamed and shot England in the arm.

The British nation started running and ended up outside America's room; He rushed in and locked the door, but it wouldn't be long before Canada caught up to him. He could already hear footsteps climbing up the stairs. England looked around the small room and managed to find America's cell phone. As soon as he finished sending a text, he could already hear the footsteps stop outside the door.

"_I know you're in here England…_" A childish voice cooed. "_Please come out and play with me_," the voice said. Canada started pounding at the door. "_Please let me in big_ _brother. If you don't let me in then I will get angry_."

The Canadian said starting to loose his patience. _Thump, thump, __**thump.**_ The pounding on the door started to get louder and louder before _**Bang**_. Pieces of wood and metal scattered across the room. Canada had shot the lock off.

Canada then entered the room and walked towards the fearful, older nation, smiling a bitter, cruel smile and singing…

"_England is falling down, falling down, falling down  
England is falling down my…fair…lady"_  
That was the last thing England heard before he was pulled into blackness.

_Spain_

Spain was sitting in his home watching some documentary on tomatoes in Spanish when his cell phone started beeping. Looking down, he noticed he had a text from America. He flipped up the top of his phone and started to casually read the message. He was skimming it lightly until he realized it was from England which made him stop and read the text over. He couldn't believe what he was reading…

_From: America_

_Subject: S.O.S_

_Spain, this is England. I'm at America's home, something is wrong with Canada. I think he tried to kill America and is trying to kill me as well. You have to help. America can't hold out much longer and Canada is planning to harm others if he is allowed to keep up like this. Get here as soon as you can._

_-England_

After turning off the TV, Spain rushed to grab a gun and some ammo. He was prepared to leave when there was a loud knock on the door followed by shouts of "Oi, let me in tomato bastard!" It could be no one else but Romano.

"_Didn't I give him a key?"_Spain thought and almost as if his thoughts were being read, Romano took out his keys and opened the door himself.

"What are you planning on using those guns for?" Romano asked while munching on a tomato.

"It's so sad _mi tomate._ America and England need my help and I must go save them!" Spain exclaimed dramatically. He scooped the shorter nation into a hug that turned the Italian's face redder than the tomato he had been eating.

"I will save _mi amigos_ and be back for you my little _tomate!" _The Spaniard yelled and ran out the door.

"Bastard…" Romano mumbled. After a silent moment, he then whispered "Be careful…"

_Canada_

After I had dealt with England, I reached down and picked up America's phone. A large smirk was still on my face, but was turned into a frown after I looked at the small screen.

"YOU BASTARD!" I yelled at England's limp body.

I dropped the phone and darted out of the house as quickly as I could. All my plans were about to fall apart, but I had only gotten cocky. I had been drunk off the fear in my ex-brother's eyes and had waited too long.

_I still have time._ I left the home behind. In the small bedroom next to England's body was the cell phone that said _Message Sent _on the screen_. _I could only guess what had been on the text and I didn't have time to look. I would just have to get rid of whoever had gotten that text and then I could finish what I had started.

After running for a while, I could hear footsteps in the distance. I quickly hid my gun and I waited for the other person to come by, who ended up being Spain. Taking one look at my blood stained clothes Spain stopped a few feet away.

"Canada what happened?" He asked, almost afraid to receive an answer.

"I only had a little _discussion _with America and England. Why do you ask?" I questioned faking innocence.

For a moment, there was silence until Spain realized what he was hearing. Once he did the questioning look in his eyes turned into one of extreme rage.

"Canada, please tell me you didn't do what you're implying?" He asked in a dark tone.

"My, I have never seen this side of you, Spain," I said allowing the sadistic tone in my voice confirm his question. "You know what Spain? The truth is I had no particular problem with you but you got in my way so I guess this is goodbye." I smiled as a pulled the gun from its hiding place.

I was prepared to shoot when _**bang. **_Something whipped past my ear causing my smile to freeze. _DAMMIT, DAMMIT, DAMMIT! _That was all I could think of. England and America didn't have guns and I hadn't thought of what would happen if someone I went after shot back.

I panicked and ran. I could hear Spain chasing me and the sound of a few more bullets whizzing through the air. "Are you sure you want to come after me?" I yelled over my shoulder. "I don't think England and America have much longer!" I taunted and laughed when I heard Spain curse and take off towards the house.

Now I had a little time to plan before I continued. "Soon no one will forget me anymore," I said cheering myself up. _No one will forget me, ever again._


	2. Chapter 2

**New chapter this one took so long because I couldn't decide if England and America should die or not aren't I ****just terrible?**

**Yep so enjoy this**** sadistic little chapter from my disturbed little mind.**

**Disclaimer- I own nothing at all**

_Canada_

Canada smiled as he started walking back towards America's house now that Spain knew he couldn't be allowed to live. If he couldn't win in a fair fight he would just have to use stealth. Things would end up all right. All he had to do was kill Spain then he could finish what he had started. Smiling a little Canada reloaded his gun and sped up his pace. _I'm coming for you Spain._

_Spain_

Spain rushed into the house. _There's no way they can't be…_

He ran through the house not letting himself finish the thought. They had to be alright.

He finally managed to find America. "It's alright friend. Let's get you some help-" Something wasn't right. America looked pale and his skin was cold to the touch. Spain began searching for a pulse on his wrists, his neck, something that said that the American was still alive.

There was nothing there. America was…America was **Dead**. Suddenly Spain was filled with fear if America hadn't escaped Canada then, _what about England?_

Spain looked around for a few more minutes following the path of destruction which lead him outside a room that had a large hole where the lock should be. Pushing the door open, Spain got a full view of the room. Bits of scattered wood and metal littered the floor, and in the center was the limp form of England. His chest was barely rising and falling.

"S-Spain?" he called out weakly gasping for breath like a fish in the middle of the desert.

"Si, mi amigo. Don't worry. The paramedics are already on the way. We'll get help for you!"Spain said trying to sound cheerful.

Soon, a team of paramedics entered the house and they wheeled England out. Spain was getting ready to leave when England grabbed his arm stopping him.

"Spain where's America?" he asked gasping between words.

Spain didn't respond. He just stood there looking sadly at England for a few moments before he finally managed to say, "I-I'm sorry England but…America is dead."

_England_

England's world shattered around him. Those dreadful words bouncing around in his head "_America is dead…is dead…__**dead.**__"_

England grabbed onto the Spaniard's shirt mort tightly. "N-no no! Please god no!" he screamed out, tears flowing freely down his face.

This couldn't be happening. It was impossible. America was gone. England's world was closing in around him. Memories were flooding in with meeting the little nation, the box of tin soldiers given as a present, the revolutionary war, world war two; everything was falling apart. America would never smile again, never laugh, never run around as the ridiculous "hero." A paramedic came up and placed a mask over England's face the oxygen tasted almost sweet and soon England was sucked into blackness again.

_Spain_

Spain stood inside the now empty house. The paramedics had left quickly after…taking care of America. He listened as the sound of sirens faded in the distance. How could someone possibly do something like this? He had already called the other countries and told them about what had happened. Canada wouldn't be able to stay hidden forever and when they caught him, he would pay for what he has done.

Spain started slowly walking towards the door. He couldn't shake off the feeling that someone was watching him from the shadows. He shook it off anyway, laughing to himself a little. "I'm just being paranoid." He mumbled but quickened his pace anyway.

He was rounding the last few hallways; almost out of the maze-like home when he heard a small chuckle from behind him. Before he could turn around, think, or blink, the eerie silence of the house was replaced by a deafening **BANG!**

Spain fell to the ground with a muffled thud.

"You did a bad thing Spain," Canada said almost cheerfully. "I wanted to have more fun with all the countries but you ruined that for me." His sweet tone suddenly turned dark. "It's going to be so much harder to reach my goal now, thanks to you."

Spain felt his rage boiling over. "Go to hell bastard," he spat glaring at the nation which earned himself a kick in the side.

"You would be doing the same thing if you were forgotten every single day of your life!" Canada yelled back "I hope you're all happy that you all created a monster," he said sweetly again aiming the gun at Spain's head. Spain stared at the barrel of the gun defiantly.

"Goodbye Spain." He said while smiling a cruelly **BANG!**

…

Spain looked up in shock. The gun had gone off but the shot… Canada couldn't have missed from where he had been standing. Suddenly the Canadian started screaming in mixed French and English clutching his shirt where the white fabric was starting to turn crimson.

"Get away from Spain you bastard!" An all too familiar voice demanded.

"Romano!" Spain sighed in relief.

Canada turned around to face Romano. The sadistic grin returned to his face. "New players to the game? How fun!" he said laughing. "It looks like this is going to be much better than I thought!" he grinned still clutching his side where he had been shot. "You win for now but always remember…" he said his voice dropping a tone. "You never know who is going to SNAP!" he yelled letting out a twisted insane laugh.

Romano aimed the gun at him again "BASTARD!" he yelled but missed Canada's head by a few inches. The Canadian managed to avoid a few more shots as he ran out the door, laughing.

With Romano's help, Spain managed to get up.

"Spain, what do you think he meant by 'You never know who is going to snap'?"

Spain looked over to the spot where Canada had disappeared. "I don't know, Romano. I just don't know…"

_Canada_

Canada ran through the forest branches which were swiping at his face and arms. Logs and vines were making him fall over and over, before he finally collapsed in a small clearing. This was terrible since everyone knew and his plan was now ruined. He couldn't beat them at all once. It was over.

Canada didn't know how long he was asleep for, but he woke up to the sound of someone singing.

_Marukaitte chikyuu_

_Marukaitte chikyuu_

_Marukaitte chikyuu boku Hetalia!_

_Ahhh-_ the singing suddenly stopped as Italy reached the clearing.

"V-ve! Please don't shoot Canada. I have so much to live for. I just wanted to enjoy my pasta in the forest. I'm sorry so please don't shoot me!"

Canada was half tempted to but something stopped him the way Italy sobbed and begged. It looked almost _fake._ How had he not noticed?

"You can drop the act. I know you're faking it," Canada said smiling.

Suddenly Italy's tears stopped and he got up off his knees. "Ve~ You're the first person to ever figure it out," Italy said smiling back. "I heard about what you did Canada…" Italy said with a bit of seriousness lacing his voice for a moment.

They both stared at each other. Canada was prepared to shoot the Italian to keep him from attracting any attention if he needed tp.

"What was it like?" Italy asked taking the Canadian off guard. "What was it like to **kill** someone?" There were another few moments before a dark grin spread over Canada's face.

"Why don't you find out for yourself?" he asked placing his gun into Italy's hand. _Another new player… How much fun!_


	3. Chapter 3

The nations were shocked and frightened after learning about everything Canada had done, such as murdering his brother in cold blood and attempting to kill the others.

It was almost unbelievable. "Who would have thought that innocent Canada could do such a thing?", was the first thing on most of the nations minds, "How could he...?" The search for Canada continued to no avail; it seemed as if he had just disappeared like all those times before, except now he did not wish to be found.

"I got away with it…" Canada mumbled quietly. "I got away with murder and now someone else is going to start killing for me…" he smiled, his eyes pale and dull. "They're all looking now, all trying to find me. I should have killed my brother earlier." He laughed, the broken, demented sound echoing through the forest. "I'll sit back and watch for now and then I'll finish my plan… I'll finally have what I want…"

Austria sat playing a soft, sad tune on his piano; a song of pain and grief. Fingers dancing on the keys, eyes closed in quiet concentration, he hardly noticed the door squeak slightly as it closed. "It must be Hungary…"

The floorboards creaked, meaning the person was only a few meters away. "Ve~ hello Austria." the Italian said, cheerfully hiding his purpose. "Oh hello, Italy, what are you doing here-" **BANG!** A bullet zoomed by shattering the window with a loud **CRACK.**

Austria nearly fell out of the bench, looking at the Italian with wide eyes. "I-Italy what are you doing?"

Italy just smiled his same carefree smile but it grew into something more disturbed. The light, friendly grin turned into a wild smirk- one that spoke of danger. "I'm going to kill you, what does it look like I'm doing?~" he said calmly as if asking how his day had been.

"Italy why would you do this? You're not a murderer!" Austria began backing away slowly fighting the urge to just turn and run when Italy reloaded the gun.

"Ve~ that's what you thought, Austria, it was all an act from the very beginning- it was all pretend; did you really think someone could be THAT clueless?~" he asked stepping forward every time the Austrian stepped back, never changing the distance.

"It's a shame, though; Canada was the first one to start killing, I'm the second. I wish I could have gone first.~" Italy smiled that sweet, caring smile again holding up the gun and pointing it at him. "Goodbye Austria, this is for all the years of slavery.~"

**BANG! **

Canada stepped into the small home, smiling at the lack of blood anywhere. "A clean kill~", he murmured to himself and continued walking enjoying the eerie silence.

"You wouldn't even be able to guess that someone had just died- no, been murdered here..." he said, almost whispering as he walked past lightly painted walls, admiring the many portraits that lined the hallway.

Soon he stopped, standing just outside a large room; a grand piano stood in the center of it, and now you could see it… Bloody handprints covered the back of the piano, almost invisible against the ebony coloring.

"Looks like one point for you." Canada said and smiled shyly at the Italian, "Ve~ He was easy, though he didn't even leave his door locked!" Italy smiled widely, admiring his handiwork.

Austria lay slumped against one of the legs of the piano, his eyes wide in fear from his last moment, but his pupils were dull and lifeless, his eyes beginning to cloud over, blood dripping sluggishly from his mouth leaving a small puddle on the floor, more blood trickled from the single hole near the center of his head.

"He didn't even run!" Italy cheered again "I think he-" Italy cut off hearing the door open and close followed by a familiar voice "Austria, are you home?" Hungary called out and began walking down the hall.

"Kill her..." Canada whispered almost shyly to the Italian. "No one can get in the way of our game."

Italy nodded and called out, "Ve~ We're in here Hungary!~" _more points for me! _He thought happily _Ve~ I'm going to win! _

Hungary stepped into the large room but froze at the doorway "Canada… If you hurt Italy I swear-" she was interrupted by Italy laughing as if she had just told a joke.

"Ve~ don't you understand Hungary? I'm in no danger." he said and continued laughing, but the sound was off.

"I-Italy what is going on? W-what happened to Austria?" She asked holding back tears as she noticed the Austrian's limp body slouched against his beloved piano.

"It's all a game Hungary… A game to see who can kill the most!" Italy told her smiling sweetly, "You're going to help me win thank you, Hungary!" He said and pointed the gun.

"No…No!" Hungary screamed and ran out of the room; she needed some sort of weapon- anything she could use to protect herself... She ran into the kitchen and grabbed a frying pan then proceeded to hide, running from room, to hallway, to room.

Clutching the frying pan tightly the Hungarian listened for any sound. _What am I doing? I can't hurt_ _Italy!_ She thought to herself thinking back to the adorable little boy she had dressed up in her clothes when he was a child.

_No…This isn't Italy_- her thoughts were cut short when she heard footsteps walking in her direction, she held onto the frying pan more tightly and stayed silent, hoping not to be found… A soft click was heard as a gun was cocked and a pair of voices spoke to her mockingly,

"We found you~"

**BANG!**

Canada looked down at Hungary, sharing twin smiles with the Italian. "I-I think I get the point this time…" He said timidly looking at the two bullet holes on the side of her head, one just above her left temple and the other closer to the back of her head.

"I think won this time Canada!~" Italy said cheerfully while reloading his gun.

"Can it be a tie?..", he asked in nearly a whisper. It was strange: if you heard Canada speak, you would still think of him as the sweet, innocent little person everyone forgot about…

"Alright, then it's a tie!" Italy cheered again and started to leave the house. "I won't let you win, though, Canada I'm going for the five points this time!" He held up five fingers for emphasis,

"A-already?... But that will probably end our game..." Why keep insisting it's a game? _Is it because even_ _though I killed someone, I'm still the weak, dependent Canada I was before?_ He asked himself, thinking the question over.

_I_ _could just kill him now…No, let's wait until he regrets it, until he realizes what he's doing... _"Alright then, I will go for three points!" The energetic Italian said, subtracting two fingers. "Come on, Canada! I want you there to see me win!" He smiled widely and began walking again.

_Yes I'll wait until he will thank me for killing him..._

**Haha! This chapter is finally finished! Again I am really sorry I didn't post these sooner! I just want to thank everyone who reviewed! I love you guys! Your reviews make me so happy! Next chapter is already in progress look forward to it!**


	4. Contest

**Ok it's time for a contest! That's right a contest! I want you dear readers to compete for my affection and the best part is you don't need to have any skills at all to win! Ok I'm done stalling and trying to take up space by putting random stuff….. Bacon… Ok for real now I'm done onto the contest! All you have to do readers is press that button at the bottom of the screen that says "Review this chapter" once you do that I want you to answer these questions!**

**What is the game?**

**What is the point system?**

**Why are some people worth more points than others?**

**Who are the people that are worth more points?**

**Take your best guess! The person who is the closest to the right answer will get a prize! Anyways I'm out, peace!**


	5. Author's note

**Hello readers! No, I am not dead I am lazy, but I have a question for you! It may be a little strange but how do you feel about torture? Yes torture. I might put it in the next chapter but I might not… I just can't decide so please help me! Leave your opinions in the reviews~**

**~CONCERNING THE CONTEST~**

**I have two winners actually! They were both close but not exactly right! ;)**


	6. Chapter 4

**Hello dear readers! I have missed you so!**

**I am a procrastinator- can you not tell? So please keep sending in comments; they inspire me to write!**

**I decided to be lazy and skip the torture, besides now I can keep it T rated.**

_Name: Elizabeta Hedervary, Roderich Edelstein _

_Date: March 14, 2011_

_Time: 6:37 P.M._

_Details: At 6:35 P.M, officers arrived at the home of Roderich Edelstein to find the bodies of him and a woman who was later identified by friends and family as Elizabeta Hedervary. Both had been shot multiple times, Mr. Edelstein in the chest and Ms. Hedervary in the head. Both appeared to have been dead for longer than a week, as rigor mortis had already passed. They are believed to have known the man who had recently murdered Alfred Jones and attempted to kill Arthur Kirkland and Antonio Carriedo. There was no sign of forced entry, but a bullet was retrieved from a shattered window near the body of Mr. Edelstein._

Two figures stumbled around on the edge of a dark road, laughing as if they were high as they tripped over each other. They truthfully were "high"…but no drugs had been used. No inhalants, no pills, no drinks, just the memories of murder. If a car had driven down that dark highway, the headlights would have revealed two blood spattered young men, but no cars appeared and the two continued walking, planning the deaths of all those that had done them wrong. Both were getting bored of this way of killing though and a plan was formed: a dark, twisted plan… Smirking in the weak glow of a crescent moon, both threw their guns into a ditch on the side of the road. They continued walking, the dizzying highness replaced with something terrible, an evil lust for more blood to flow. The ground under their feet would be permanently stained crimson before they were satisfied.

Romano waited at home; he kept his short-tempered attitude on the outside so no one could tell his true feelings, but inside he was in panic. His brother had gone missing and Canada was nowhere to be found; he could only assume the worst had happened and that made him feel even more scared and upset. The locks to his house had all been changed and a security system had been set up. Also, he now carried a small pocketknife with him. Romano looked up quickly when he heard someone knocking on the door, feeling a little relieved when he heard Spain's voice.

"Roma, It's me let me in please!~" The Spaniard called out in his usual cheerful tone.

Romano walked over to the door and unlocked it, and keeping his normal bad attitude, he glared and grumbled out something that sounded like a mix of "Hello" and "What the hell do you want?"

Spain smiled completely ignoring the Italians sour mood, "I came to see you Romano!" He said still grinning.

Romano mumbled a few more half hearted complaints before letting the Spaniard in. He would never admit it, but he felt… safer when Spain was here. Romano would never actually **tell** him that though. For a while nothing interesting actually happened; they conversed, Romano only swearing a few times (a few times for Romano's normal standards, that is). All seemed peaceful until the sound of someone knocking on the door echoed throughout the house. Both looked up at the sound as whoever it was continued knocking.

"I'll get it!" Spain offered, smiling at Romano and walking out of the living room toward the door. He hesitated for a moment with his hand on the doorknob: something in his gut was telling him not to open the door;.

A familiar voice was heard between knocks. "Ve fratello, are you home?" The voice called, continuing to knock.

Spain needed no more encouragement and, shaking off the feeling, he pulled the door open and hugged Italy tightly. "Italy, you're alright- this is amazing! Everyone was worried about you, I'm glad you're ok!" He continued babbling on about how happy he was to see the redheaded Italian. Italy remained silent the whole time but soon started smiling.

"I missed you too, Spain! I even brought you a gift!" He said innocently.

Spain smiled wider, still hugging Italy. "Really? You're so nice Ita-"… His eyes went wide with fear as blood dripped onto the ground between them.

Within seconds, Spain was on the ground, clutching the stab wound in his side. Italy smirked down at him, holding a bloody kitchen knife.

"Where's fratello? Is he home?" He asked holding the knife dangerously close.

"Italy h-how could y-" Antonio's question was cut short when the Italian kicked him in the stomach.

"**Where is he?**" He asked again, his tone resounding with more control and demand. Spain could not scream- Romano would come to investigate if he did- and he most certainly could not tell Italy where Romano was. He did not even want to imagine what would happen if he did.

"He's not here… I was waiting for him to get home..." He lied through his teeth. "It's just me…"

Feliciano responded with a smile, like his usual self. "Then I'll wait for him too," he said and began walking inside.

On pure instinct, Spain grabbed Italy's ankle and pulled him to the ground. "RUN ROMANO!" He screamed, trying to give Romano a little extra time.

Italy turned on him and smirked darkly. "You just dug your own grave~," he nearly purred and turned over knife in hand. "This is for getting in my way!" He yelled and pierced the knife into Spain's body; countless times he forced the blade into the Spanish nation, only stopping when the struggling ceased and a large pool of blood smeared the ground around them. Italy smirked, looking down at his crimson stain his hands; the sleeves of his light blue uniform were covered in dark red splotches and bloody handprints from where Spain had tried to stop him. Looking down at the body of his _former_-friend, he couldn't help but feel… Something. A small pang in his chest… Possibly…

**Regret**.

Romano ran through the house heading for the back door, not knowing what was going on, but the way Spain had yelled meant it was not some sort of joke. The words echoed through his head, how desperate they sounded.

"_RUN __Romano_!"

He could feel fear and adrenalin rushing through his veins, causing him to all but crash through the door into the backyard, his breath tearing through his lungs. Lovino continued to run, scrambling desperately to get away from whatever there was. He did not know what- or who- he was running from but he couldn't think about it now, he just had to get away. A hand darted out from behind him and grabbed his wrist. Before he could scream, a cloth was placed over his mouth and nose. The rag muffled the sound of his shrieking and smelled sickly sweet; after a few minutes, his struggles weakened and his vision began to fade... He was on the ground now, he wasn't sure how he had gotten there; he could see his little brother and someone else…

They were smiling- no, they were grinning large, toothy grins.

Smiling down at him, their mouths demonic gashes across blood-stained visages.

Smirks growing wider.

Laughing… Laughing faces. Oh god, why were they laughing?

His eyes closed, and Lovino felt someone pick him up as the last shreds of his consciousness slipped away.

Romano woke up in a dark room he didn't recognize, his vision blurry, his focus mediocre, at best. Soon his senses started returning to him, revealing cold metal shackles rubbing against the skin of his wrists and ankles. The room smelled of blood, a smell of metal mixed with fear. Lovino knew this was somewhere he did not want to be; panic forced him to start turning and twisting, trying to force his hands out of the cuffs. The cold, gripping iron stayed stubbornly chained to the low ceiling.

"Oh, you're awake- that's great!~" A familiar voice called out cheerfully.

"Yes, I'm awake, now help me out of these, dammit!" Romano snapped, still struggling with the chains.

Abruptly, a burning piece of metal was pressed against his bare back. He screamed in pain as his skin sizzled from the intense heat. After what felt like hours, the agonizing pain faded as the metal cooled.

"Sorry to tell you this, but there will be no escaping…" A soft voice said from behind him, Italy just continued to smile at him.

"Now the fun can begin!~" Feliciano yelled joyously, running over to a dark corner of the cellar, looking for something on a small table.

The sound of that rummaging turned Romano's blood into ice.

Italy smiled and grabbed a rag from one of the tables near one of the rooms' stone walls; he dipped the white piece of cloth in a small saucer of water and began to clean his hands and face. The rag was soon a dark pink to match the now red bowl. His brother stood behind him- No, stood wasn't the right word for it; standing required some form of consciousness. It was more like… Hung? Yes, that seemed to be the perfect definition. His brother **hung **behind him, the chains on his wrists the only things holding him up now, the rest of his body was limp except for the slow rise and fall of his chest. Blood oozed sluggishly from the gashes across his chest, arms, back, legs...

"Ve~ I wish I had brought my painting set down here! The color is so pretty!~" Italy mused, fawning over the wonderful shade. Canada only smiled shyly and continued cleaning off the "toys."

"Maybe next time you can bring them down here, I really like your art…" He murmured timidly, holding the serrated blade up to the light to make sure it was clean.

Italy only smiled at the compliment and began to help clean the blood off the rest of the knives. Only knives had been used today: tomorrow they agreed to use pins.

Soon they began to hum softly, the humming turning into a few mumbled words, and then they were singing together:

_In my crown, I am king  
I love their endless worshiping  
I am raw, a dinosaur  
But I will never be extinct_

Don't mess with me  
I'll shoot you down  
Don't mess with me

'Cause all your heads are gonna roll  
I've made your misery my goal  
So if you want survival  
Kneel on my arrival  
For this is how I rule the world.

No one can stop me, for only I am in control  
And if you want me, you better contact my people.

See my crown, I am king  
You'll love the endless worshiping  
I am raw, a dinosaur

_But I will never be extinct_

So don't mess with me  
I'll shoot you down  
Don't mess with me  
I'll knock you down  
Don't mess with me  
I'll shoot you down  
Don't mess with me. 

**Thank you, readers, for reading this chapter! It took a while, but the story's at least going somewhere, right?**

**Finally done! I'm a lazy narrator. *dies***

**I've started working on the one-shot prizes for my two winners! One is more difficult than the other because I really hate one of the pairings, but I am still going to write it and I'll be a stronger person for it! I am determined!**


	7. Chapter 5

Another chapter hurrah! I am working on the one-shots for the winners now and I hope to have them out by the end of the week (hopefully!)

All right, I'm going to jump right into the story!

DISCLAIMER: I do not claim ownership of Hetalia Axis Powers or any of its characters.

After talking about it for a number of days Italy finally managed to bring his easel and brushes down into the basement. This was their last time playing with Lovino. Canada had insisted that after so long Romano had begun to get boring. Besides neither of them were getting any points while the man was still alive

.

"Ve~ it's going to be a masterpiece I can tell!" Italy cheered, as he cleaned off his paint supplies and set up a canvas. Romano remained motionless, head hung low in defeat; the scars stretched everywhere on his body, some old and beginning to scab over at the edges, others were still slightly damp with blood.

"S-So… What should we use for this one? It is special after all…" Canada had half whispered, even around Italy his voice barely ever rose from this volume.

They both pondered over it for a few moments, eyes wandering to the many "toys" they had stacked along shelves and hanging along the walls. There were so many options still left, of course, they wanted something that spilled a lot of blood but did not kill the victim too quickly.

Finally, it was Feliciano; pure, sweet, innocent, Feliciano who stepped up to his brother with a knife in hand. "I decided to use something a little more traditional fratello, I thought you would appreciate that!~" He sing-songed, brandishing the blade in front of the weak lamplight to illuminate its eerie glow. "Plus I remembered how you always would get jealous of my paintings so now you'll get to be part of one, isn't that great?" He asked, and then turned to face Matthew.

"Ve~ Sorry Mattie but this point goes to me!" He cheered, suddenly slicing downward across Lovino's chest. Drops of blood spurted from the cut. The Italian screamed out in agony. Italy tilted his head slightly, eyes wide and insane, a smile resembling the Cheshire cat. "Does it hurt fratello? Does it hurt when I do that? I really hope it does, because maybe then you'll know how I felt every time you or someone else screamed at me about being useless. Do you feel humiliated fratello? Do you feel alone? Do you feel hopeless now!" He was screaming now, every word sent another slice against Lovino's body.

Feliciano drove his fingers into the cuts, staining them a deep burgundy. His right hand had a mind of its own, deepening the cuts, splashing blood everywhere.

Feliciano's left hand swiped and curved across the blank sheet, marking evil handprints across the egg white surface.

"Am I weak now fratello? Am I useless? AM I?"

The only replies he received were the screeching and sobbing, the begging and the howling. A chorus of suffering, symphonies of pure agony.

Still Italy continued yelling, hands working on their own, the questions had become nothing more than enraged shrieks, blending in with Lovino's pleas. This went on for hours, or minutes, or seconds; time hadn't seemed to matter. They could have been like that for years or for only a moment. It seemed even time itself had stood still to watch this gory demise.

Soon though, the blood stopped flowing so freely when there was no heartbeat to pump it though the wounds, and the only yelling was Feliciano's wordless shouts. He stood back, hair and face dripping rubies, to examine his two works of art.

The first of course had to be his precious older brother, Lovino had always loved his art after all.

"You look so nice dressed in red fratello, you always have…" He murmured to the limp corpse, unlocking the chains that had held him up for so many days. Feliciano felt fatigue weigh down his body, but he didn't feel the one thing he longed for most.

He didn't feel any relief.

His brother was gone, killed by his own two hands… so why?

Why wasn't he feeling any sense of joy or accomplishment? Why, when he looked down at his blood stained hands, did he feel sick? Feel wrong? Feel unclean?

Why did the liquid dripping through his fingertips feel like maggots instead of gold?

He gazed up at his painting, eyes wide and shaking slightly. He just stared at the handprints as if they were some alien markings.

He didn't regret it. He didn't regret it. He didn't regret it.

In a fit of rage, he let out a terrified howl and attacked the painting, ripping it into pieces as if by destroying the evidence he could turn back time and it would never have happened.

"No, no, no! You're dead! You're dead!" He was all but sobbing now, "I don't regret it! I killed you! I killed you, I did!"

He sat back, chest heaving with ragged sobs. He could not regret anything, he did not regret anything, he was a killer, he was a murderer… He couldn't give up the game, yes the game.

That game, the reason for this, the reason this was fun. His tears began to subside as he thought about it more; of course, it was all just a game.

It was only just a game.

**Author's Note:**

**Short chapter is short.**

**I've been lacking in inspiration recently so I really wanted to make this one amazing and long and other wonderful things! So instead you get this.**

**As for beta-ing, for this chapter my kind enough friend (*coughslavecough*) helped me out! So thanks to her I was able to finish the chapter and she did the beta and all that wonderful stuff. But ya know, it's also her fault if it's bad (love ya buddy!).**

**So! If you have any thoughts or ideas or questions of the sort, review and I shall either reply (or even add it to the story!).**

**Thanks for reading! (long AN is long)**


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